SheLock
by BriBri97
Summary: AU where Sherlock and John were married and had an 11 year old daughter during The Reichenbach Fall. It's now five years later, and Anne-Marie Watson-Holmes is searching for her presumably dead father with skills only a Holmes would have.
1. Prelude

_Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock, that's the property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Moffat. _

_AN: So, this fic is AU, where John and Sherlock got married and they had a daughter who was about 11 during the fall (This is 5 years later). Also, Moriarty never committed suicide. This is my first Sherlock fic, so please comment!_

-Present Day

The tall, thin girl stepped into the abandoned warehouse, scanning the room for a source of life. "Come out." She called. "I know you're here." She took her coat off and gently set it on the cleanest crate she could see.

"Why, Miss. Watson-Holmes... How nice to see you again." The slender, evil man stepped out of the shadows and smirked at the teenager.

"Moriarty." The girl nodded curtly, her eyes full of hatred. "Have you thought about my offer?" Jim rolled his eyes.

"Just like your father, you are. Both of them. Figures, the magnificant Sherlock-"

"Just answer my question." She interrupted, her slightly heeled Mary-Janes tapping the floor impatiently.

Moriarty rolled his eyes again. "And tell me. Why should I listen to a child such as yourself?"

"I'm not much a child anymore. I'm sixteen as of yesterday. And you should listen to me because it's a win-win for the both of us."

The consulting villain raised his eyebrows. "And what would that be, little miss Anne-Marie?"

"I get information on where Sherlock is, oh we both know he's alive and you've got him somewhere." She snapped at the man's skeptical look, "And you get the crown jewels. So, do we have ourselves a deal?"

"Yes." They shook hands, but in their heads they were thinking the same thing.

Oh, how easy it will be to kill.

_~Sherlocked~_

"Where the hell have you been, Anne-Marie? You know that you need to tell me if you're staying after!" John Watson called out from the kitchen as his teenage daughter stepped inside 221B Baker Street.

"I'm sorry Dad! I had a project to work on and forgot to call!" She replied, and walked into the kitchen. "What's for dinner?" She gave him a hug.

"Spaghetti. And just don't forget again, okay?" He hugged her back. "You know how paranoid I get. Especially after-"

Anne-Marie frowned and went to her room.

_AN: and there you go. The next chapters will be longer, I promise! Please review!_


	2. Chapter 1

_AN: Yay, another chapter! This one's just a flashback of the fall, and afterwords. Obviously AU, and it won't be exactly like the actual show (Ex. Moriarty living). Enjoy! _

_Disclaimer: Do I look like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or Moffat? No? Okay then, I DO NOT own Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, etc. all I own is the story idea and my OC. Got it? Good!_

-Past

"Daddy! Can I come with you? Pleaseeeeeeee?" A younger Anne-Marie latched herself to Sherlock, her long, curly black hair clinging to her father's coat with static.

Sherlock Watson-Holmes smiled sadly down at his 11 year old daughter, knowing that if what he thought Moriarty was going to do was correct, this would be the last time he saw her. Hugging her back, he pulled her off of him. "No my darling, you have to stay here with Papa. You're behind in your literature studies as it is." She sighed, hugged him again, and stomped off to the kitchen mumbling about when she would be old enough to help her fathers work.

"Will you be back in time for dinner?" John asked his husband, kissing him promptly on the lips. The thought of what might happen almost prevented Sherlock from answering, but he gulped, and was able to hold the tears back long enough to look into John's eyes and say, "No. I love you", to kiss him again, and to step out the door. But as he shut the door to the flat behind him, the tears flowed freely.

A few short hours later, John got a phone call. So, he told his small, innocent daughter to get her coat and shoes on, that they were going to visit her Daddy at work. Excitedly, she got ready to go, her flat Mary-Janes and plaid pea coat put on gingerly. During this, John called a cab, and they went to where Sherlock told them to go. A few short minutes and a phone call later, little Anne-Marie and John Watson-Holmes were forced to watch their beloved Sherlock jump to his death.

The second he hit the ground, Anne-Marie ran to the body, with John following behind. It took the man ten minutes to be able to pry the girl off of her favorite father. And no, John was not afraid to admit that he knew his daughter preferred Sherlock. But he also knew that she loved him too, and that's what mattered to him. Once he was able to pry the girl off of the dead man, with Sherlock's scarf in her hand, he drug her home, where they both cried themselves to sleep.

But what Anne-Marie noticed that John didn't, was that the man who jumped off the building was not her father.

_~Sherlocked~_

A year later, the two were still getting used to Sherlock not being around. Anne-Marie was now attending London Country Day, a private school for girls. John wasn't working, but Sherlock had left the two a considerable amount of money to live off of. In their free time, Anne-Marie would practice her consulting detective skills (Obviously inherited from her "dead" father), even though it was forbidden in 221B for any sort of detective work after the fall, and John was generally locked up in the drawing room. He had only left the flat once since the funeral, and that was to go verify his dead husband's will.

It was now three years later. Anne-Marie was fourteen, and starting to search down Jim Moriarty (who had suspiciously left London shortly after her fathers death). John had finally gotten a job as a blogger for a law firm, which paid well, and kept A-M in school. Everyday, he noticed how much his daughter was becoming like HIM. Not Him, Him, but like Sherlock, which "him" was generally how he was addressed these days. Life was somewhat coming around full circle now, and they were finally getting adjusted to the missing third person being gone for good. Or, at least John was. He was seeing a nice girl in the city. Of course she didn't have everything that John loved about Sherlock, but she was nice all the same.

_~Sherlocked~_

-Present Day

The sixteen year old girl sighed as she plopped onto her bed. Soon enough, she was going to have her father back. But the first thing she needed to do was get a hold of the crown jewels. It was easy to get knockoffs, and she didn't really think that Moriarty was smart enough to figure it out in time. But another part of her didn't take that man as an idiot. She knew what he was capable of- she had seen it. All she needed to figure out now was how to do this without her dad knowing.

What she didn't know was that John was out on a date on that very second, about to change their lives forever.

_AN: wheeeeeee! I dedicate this chapter to my friends Konnor, Searra, Taylor, Brianna and Savannah because they put up with all of my "Hey guys! Read what I've added!" posts online. Thanks guys! Love you! And thanks to you readers too! Review please! And I swear the next chapter will start it being longer. x_


	3. Chapter 2

SheLock ch. 2

_AN: Back Again! I had no idea what to do for this chapter, so bear with me for this, okay? Lol. _

There was no sleep for her that night. Tossing and turning, thinking of Moriarty and her father, Anne-Marie was too worked up to sleep. After all, she had nothing else to think of. School was out for break, and she didn't go back for three months. _Maybe_, she thought,_ Maybe I can somehow get a job with the cops. Lestrade would kill to have me with them..._ Thoughts of her future, and past overtook her to exhaustion and she soon fell asleep.

The next morning, there was a knock at the door. Since John was still out, Anne-Marie got up from watching television to answer it. When she opened the door, she almost shut it again when she saw who it was.

Mycroft Holmes stepped inside the flat and looked at his niece, eye to eye. "You've gotten taller."

"Well," Anne-Marie spat, "I haven't seen you in five years, uncle." She stepped aside, "Please, come in. If you were looking for my father, he's out at the moment. Would you like some tea? Coffee?" Mycroft followed Anne-Marie as she went to the kitchen.

"Tea, please. And I was actually hoping to catch you. You've been a very bad girl, Anne-Marie. What would your fathers think-"

The tall girl turned around suddenly and gritted her teeth. "It doesn't matter what my father would think, and as for the one everyone thinks is dead-" she took in a deep breath, "-He would most likely applaud me." She rolled her eyes as her uncle sighed dramatically.

"Still going on about that? Girl, your father is dead." The man said quietly.

"With your help." She snarled back. "Why exactly did you make a personal trip, instead of sending your lackeys for me?" she handed him his tea and sat in a chair.

"I thought this would be more personal." he took a sip of his tea and sighed. "I think you're right about Sherlock being alive. Truthfully, my little brother wouldn't go without a fight, and he wouldn't just off himself and leave you two here."

"And somebody finally sees sense!" A-M exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "That's what I've been trying to tell all of you fools for the last five years! But nobody listens to the 'Depressed'" (She did air quotations for "depressed") "little girl who just lost her father, now do they?"

"Well... No." Mycroft looked down. "No, they don't. And I apologize for that." He looked back up, and into his niece's grey-blue eyes, "That's why I'm taking you to go find him."

The teenager's eyes brightened, but her body slumped. How was she ever going to explain the deal she made with Moriarty? She had to come up with an excuse not to go... "What about my dad?" She said quickly, knowing that he would never let her go.

Mycroft smiled slyly, "Oh, he's helping you. We've already got him at the flat you two will be staying at for tonight. I just wanted you to have some time to pack, and all that other stuff you females do."

Anne-Marie gasped. "No! He can't... I'm not allowed..." she sighed, "Im not supposed to be doing anything potentially dangerous."

"I know. But what's more important? Your life or your father?"

The teenager looked straight into her uncle's eyes. "My dad. No doubt about it." She grinned and grabbed her coat. "Let's go!"

~Sherlocked~

The flat was beautiful, well, not as nice as Baker Street (In Anne-Marie's mind anyways), but beautiful in it's own way. The walls of the living room were painted with a soft pink, and gave off the impression as a soft summer rose would. The three windows, stood from the ceiling to the floor, gave a fantastic view of London and were softly covered with long flower-like curtains that matched the walls elegantly. There were two bedrooms. The one John was staying in had somewhat of a forest theme, noting at all like modern downtown London. The walls were a dark green, with smaller windows and again, matching curtains. All of the furniture was made of beautiful red oak. Anne-Marie's room on the other hand was elegant. Not like the flower-like living room, but in it's own way, a royal-ish way. It was like the other bedroom in the ways of structure, but it was painted in complete white, and had a twin bed, instead of a queen.

"Anne-Marie Watson-Holmes!" John scolded, "I can not believe you're going along with this! And that you've been doing this for the last five years! Especially after..." He choked on his words, as he never was able to talk about Sherlock, not once in the last five years. "Once this is done and over with, you're grounded. And I refuse to participate in this nonsense. We are going home tomorrow!" He stormed off to his room, leaving the girl sitting on the couch, dumbfounded. Then, she got out her phone.

**... Please finally answer for once... -AMWH**

She waited a second, then to her surprise, her phone beeped.

**Sorry, I had a bit of a detour. Hello, Anne-Marie. -SH**


	4. Chapter 3

SheLock Ch. 3

**AN: a crappy filler chapter, but I'm going to get a longer one up hopefully by next week. Warnings: swears, but who cares about those**

**anyways? Lol. **

**Disclaimer: I seriously don't see why I have to put this in every chapter. If by now you think that I am connected to Sherlock in any way, shape, or form, you need help**.

~_Sherlocked_~

A gasp, and a drop. Anne-Marie did just that, just like in the movies. After five years, the idiot finally responded! Five. Freaking. Years. No contact, until now. She screamed, and the phone buzzed again. Anne-Marie didn't pick it up.

_~Sherlocked~_

John was packing when he heard his daughter scream. He grabbed his gun, and ran out to the living room, where the girl was in the fetal position in the corner of the room, and her phone was on the floor, the new message button flashing.

"Anne-Marie? What the hell is going on in here?" He asked, looking around for any intruder. The dumbfounded teenage just pointed to her forgotten cell phone in the middle of the floor with her shaking finger.

John picked the phone up and opened the text message.

**_If I'm right, Anne-Marie panicked, screamed, and threw the phone. Therefore, this must be John. Hello John. -SH_**

John gasped, and looked up at Anne-Marie. The girl nodded and he texted back.

_**Sherlock? -JW**_

A few moments, and another text popped up onto the screen.

_**Yes. -SH**_

John threw the phone across the room. "AFTER I WAS FINALLY ABLE TO GET OVER THE FOOL AND GET ENGAGED TO A NICE GIRL!" he shouted.

_~Sherlocked~_

Mycroft was reading the morning papers. Well, he was trying to anyways. It seemed that every time he tried to settle down, something else happened. So, of course he was frustrated when his phone went off as he yet again tried to settle into his reading. With an angry sigh, he picked up his cell and opened the text.

_**Hello Brother. Miss me much? -SH**_

Mycroft's eyes widened, and he spilt his tea into his lap. And even though he didn't prefer to text, he quickly replied.

_**Brother. So, you have returned from the dead? -MH**_

As always, it only took a few moments for his phone to go off again.

_**I was never dead, therefore I can not be "back from the dead". Simply back from an extended vacation. -SH **_

_**Extended vacation? Brother, you were gone for five years. -MH**_

_**Don't focus on the unnecessary facts, Mycroft. -SH**_

_~Sherlocked~___

After the whole texting incident, John had gone to bed mumbling in shock, and Anne-Marie was able to grab out her phone and quietly text Mycroft.__

_**Did you get a text from him? -AMWH**_

_**Yes. Assuming you're talking about Sherlock, that is. -MH**_

_**Do you think he's free or something? Maybe Moriarty gave him his phone back... -AMWH**_

_**Or he is tricking us. A-M, you need to find them now. -MH**_

_**On it. -AMWH**_

_~Sherlocked~_

**AN: As of right now (while I'm typing this), there are only two people in the world who know what's going to happen in this story. Myself, and my friend Zoe. Now, as a warning, I'm going to spoil a little. Ready? Here it is: Character Death. Yep, you read that right. Not gonna tell who it is yet, but it will effect the story greatly. **

**Smiles, Gumdrops, and yellow kittens (WTF?! Lol)**

**-BriBri97**


	5. Chapter 4

**SheLock 4**  
**AN: Please don't kill me...**  
**Disclaimer: Abraham Lincoln once said, "BriBri97 does not own Sherlock Holmes." **

_~Sherlocked~_

Sneaking out was easy. John was sulking in his room, and Anne-Marie could easily grab her phone, a change of clothes, and a snack or two. Then, she just walked calmly out of the flat. She almost looked around to make sure Mrs. Hudson wasn't there, but then she remembered that she wasn't in 221B at the moment, and without that complication, she went and got a cab. When the cabby asked where to go, she replied "The Warehouse downtown".

Not long after she left the hideout, a few masked gunmen broke in, and kidnapped a certain sleeping doctor.

_~Sherlocked~_

If it weren't for his job, Mycroft would have gladly gone with his niece. Even though he didn't really show it, he truly cared about his brother, and was very relieved that he wasn't dead. Plus, his only niece was out there, and being a Holmes something bad was sure to happen.

_~Sherlocked~_

Anne-Marie had barely gotten into the cab when she heard the voice. The voice that had haunted her for the last five years, the voice that she'd thought she'd never hear again.

"Hello, Anne-Marie." The man on the other side said.

Her eyes widened, and she stared at the man.

"Daddy?" Her voice was squeaky and high pitched; she didn't believe whet she was seeing. And, for the first time in five years, she leaned over and hugged him. Her eyes were watering up, but she hid her face in Sherlock's jacket so it wouldn't show. And as her father held her tighter, and though she couldn't see it, he was crying too.

"Oh how touching." The cab stopped suddenly and the cabby turned around to face the father and daughter. "A reunion. It's too bad it will only be short lived." Jim Moriarty snapped his fingers and the two in the backseat were blindfolded, ripped out of the cab, and knocked out by pressure point. The masked men dragged them into a dark building, where they were thrown into a seemingly darker cage. Once the door slammed shut, another person quietly crawled over to the detectives, who were coming to.

"Who's there?" John hoarsely whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear.

"Dad?" Anne-Marie got out her cell phone and turned on the flashlight so they all could see.

"A-M? Oh thank God you're alright!" John pulled his daughter in for a tight hug. "But who's with you?" He looked up at Sherlock, and let go of Anne-Marie promptly. "No..." He somehow was already in the far corner of the room.

"Dad, please..." Anne-Marie sighed. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. She looked up at Sherlock when he set a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into him and started sobbing, her head in his shoulder.

"John." He said, "I'm sor-"

"No. You aren't sorry! Five years, Sherlock. Five. Fucking. Years. Do you know how much pain Anne-Marie and I have gone through since then?! Just go, I can't stand to look at you." John slumped in the corner.

The other man let go of the teen and walked over to the corner that his (ex?) husband was in. He sat next to him, and sighed. "John. Trust me, I wasn't having a pleasant time either. Most of the time, I was locked in a room. And all I could do was watch you two on a tv screen. I was forced to watch everything."

Anne-Marie went over to the corner too. "Dad, I know this is a shock to you, but..."

"Anne-Marie Jennifer Watson-Holmes, you stay out of this. If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened." John snapped, causing A-M to start sobbing again.

"John, that was a little harsh..." Sherlock said as the cell door slammed open.

"Oops, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt another precious family moment?" Moriarty stepped in and smirked at the currently dysfunctional family. "Too bad that it's over," He smirked even more evily, "Oh boys, I think it's time to say your final goodbyes. And little SheLock, yes, you Anne-Marie, I'm giving you the honor of choosing. Who will I kill? The man who raised you when all hope was lost, or the man who you've spent the last few years of your life searching for?"

Anne-Marie sat there staring at Moriarty with wide eyes. "That wasn't the deal." She muttered.

Jim laughed. "I know. I changed it. Plus, if you don't choose, I'll choose for you." The sixteen year old looked from one father to her other, then walked up to Moriarty.

"I choose myself. Kill me, not them. This is our war now, they have nothing to do with this." At these words, John's eyes widened and he was muttering for her not to do it, and Sherlock was looking at John, for once not knowing what was going on.

"That isn't the plan girl, I have other thoughts for you. And, it you aren't going to choose..." He looked up at the Watson-Holmes. "I'm choosing for you. Men, please take John Watson to the other room." And he calmly walked away.

"No!" Anne-Marie shouted as she tried to pull the masked henchmen off of her father. Sherlock was trying to as well, but to no avail. John was gone.  
Anne-Marie slumped to the cage wall. "I just can't win, can I?" She put her face into her knees and screamed.

Sherlock knelt next to Anne-Marie and pulled her head back up gently. "Anne-Marie Watson-Holmes. You have won. You are a talented, beautiful young lady. I am honored to be your father. And I know that John was proud of you too."

"No. He is NOT dead!" She pounded her fist onto the cold, hard ground. Sherlock looked at her sadly.

"Anne-Marie, nobody can defy death. It's impossible. Trust me. I wish we could help him..."

Anne-Marie looked up at her father with a dark glare. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you in the first place, none of this would have happened!" She shouted.

For once, Sherlock Holmes was speechless. He had nothing to say, because he knew that everything she said was true. He put his head down, and took in a deep breath. His daughter, the girl forced to grow up too fast. The girl who used to love late night murder mysteries and half-cooked ramen. The girl who waited for five years, just for him. The girl who became what he never wanted to be.  
For once, Moriarty was one-hundred percent spot on. His little Anne-Marie was truly a SheLock.

_~End of part one~_

**AN: Like I said, please don't kill me! I'm only a teenager, I have a life ahead of me! And This is the conclusion of part one, don't worry, Part 2 will be updated to this story as well. I hope I didn't make Sherlock too OOC. IDK as I'm writing this how short/long this chapter is, but I hope you liked it. **  
**-BriBri97**


	6. Chapter 5

AN: Welcome to the fabulous part 2 of SheLock! You've made it this far, meaning you don't hate and want to murder me, or you just want to see what happens next. Either way, thank you for being here and reading! Also, I am sooo soooo sorry. For both the wait and the actual chapter...

Disclaimer: if I was affiliated with BBC in any way, I wouldn't have to use my iPod to type all of this.

~Sherlocked~

~Part 2~

They had been there a week. Not knowing if John was alive or dead, Sherlock and Anne-Marie were slowly going insane from worry. For the first day or two, Anne-Marie spent the whole time ranting and blaming Sherlock, where he just sat there with his head down. Then after that, A-M just became silent. They were given food, but they wouldn't move to eat it. The two had given up all hope of ever going home.

Of course, they had to get up when Moriarty sent for them. They had no idea what to expect, except for the fact that it had to do with the missing member of their family.

Anne-Marie was the first to speak. "Where are you doucheheads taking us?" But the henchmen ignored her.

They were led down tunnels and darkened pathways until they found themselves inside a chamber lit by electric torches. It seemed like a castle, only more modern. And, slumped in a chair with blood running down his face was an unconscious John Watson. Sherlock and Anne-Marie were strapped to their own chairs.

"He isn't... Dead, is he?" The teenager asked as she tried to break free of the straps.

"Dead? Um, no. Not yet anyways." Moriarty rolled his eyes. "I mean, there's always hope for his life if you would like to switch."

Anne-Marie looked over at Sherlock, who was obviously deep in thought. She sighed and put her head down. "Why can't you just take me instead? My life must be more valuable, or you would have already killed me. Which is why you have kept Dad alive, because you want something from me and this is the only way I will do it. So, the question is, what makes me so valuable?" Her head bounced back up, and she stared into Jim Moriarty's eyes.

He just smirked and she glowered. Sherlock for some reason was still silent, which as everyone knew, was extremely out of character for him.

John on the other hand had finally woken up and realized what was happening. "Anne-Marie! Sherlock! Don't say anything! It's a tr-" one of the henchmen gagged John, and the two consulting detectives looked skeptically at Moriarty.

"A trap? Oh, I've known that since we came in here." Sherlock said, finally speaking up. The henchmen looked confused at his words and Anne-Marie's smirk. "Well," Sherlock explained, "it was extremely sloppy to leave those wires out in the open up on the celling, and these fake electrical chairs. It's obvious that this is just plastic painted to look like steel." With his words, Anne-Marie easily snapped the chains inclosing her wrists and stuck her tongue out at Moriarty, who frowned at her.

"It was also obvious that you had drugged our food to keep us oblivious," Sherlock continued, "So we didn't eat any. It would have been useful to bake in some vanilla to mask the scent. It also would have been very useful to have chosen a more secluded area than this." Moriarty froze as the door slammed open and the whole Scotland Yard team stormed in.

"Hello Anne-Marie." Lestrade nodded to the teen. Then he looked over at Sherlock, "Welcome back Mr. Holmes." He nodded his head again and looked over at John's limp body. "Oh, God. He isn't dead, is he?"

"No, of course not! What do you think I am? An evil murderer? Well, actually that is what I am, but that doesn't matter." Jim Moriarty smirked at Lestrade, but Lestrade just looked stonily back.

"You're under arrest on account of kidnapping, threats of murder, and abuse." Lestrade said as the other cops either helped the prisoners or cuffed Moriarty.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Moriarty said in a sing-song voice. But, the cops didn't listen to him and finished cuffing the grinning man. The second that the cuffs were settled, a gunshot went off, and a man fell to the floor.

The ultimate revenge.

~Sherlocked~

"I'm sorry, there's no way to save him now." The doctor looked sadly at the man and his teenage daughter. "My condolences to your family." And he left the room.

Anne-Marie felt a wave of nostalgia as she stared at the body. "It's all my fault." She muttered.

Her father put a hand on her shoulders. "Anne-Marie, it isn't your fault."

She turned around and glared at him. "Yes. It is. If I hadn't been so hellbent on finding you, he wouldn't be dead."

"Exactly. Which makes it my fault, in the end." Sherlock said, looking down at the crying teenager. The only reason he wasn't crying was because he had already cried for losing John, five years ago.

"Maybe it's both of our faults. Our obsession is what killed him." Anne-Marie was still crying and questioning. Sherlock stared at his daughter, the teenager who's childhood was filled with death, crime, and other various things that a child shouldn't be exposed to. The teenager who was forced to grow up too quickly, because of him. They stared at eachother for a moment, and she ran out of the room crying.

A few hours later, three people met in a dark alleyway.

"They all think you're really dead, we've got to get out of here." One of the voices muttered with a tone of urgency.

"No. You two have to stay here, at least for a few weeks. I'll leave, and you two can meet me there afterwords." The second hugged the third, who pulled back.

"I don't want to leave home." The third person, a female, said. "Can't we all just stay?"

"It's too dangerous. We have to get out."

"And soon, or we all will really die."

~Sherlocked~  
AN: wow. I actually finished it. I didn't think I would. New chapter (hopefully) soon!


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